I have been thinking a lot about my subsequent days in Newcastle and trying to put the entirety of the experience into some kind of perspective for myself. Make no mistake, the schedule was full and I have no lack of experiences to report or organizations to talk about. But a small, insistent thought has been developing in my head that what I saw in Newcastle was substantially different than the art and gallery scene in NYC and maybe even different than anywhere I've seen. It's an old story to talk about how commerce affects the arts and an equally old story to look at how government spending affects the arts. Certainly in NYC, where I live, commerce rules the day in a way that's visible in every gallery, museum, and studio. Then I think of the art world in Paris and Berlin, which I've gotten to know pretty well over the last few years, which have considerably more government funding and cushion for art and artists. But neither of these places has the feel of Newcastle.
I can't profess to be an expert on Newcastle now or in the past, but a couple of things seem clear to me. For a city of its size, Newcastle has had an extraordinary tradition of artist's collectives, performance art, and conceptual art practice. Perhaps this is because there are a number of vibrant university art schools in the area, or certain artists have lived here and established a tradition, or maybe it's a reason as a newcomer I can't see. But the fact of it is there. Also, and I think this does have a direct relationship with the size of the city, it seems that the officers of the Arts Council have a very personal and connected relationship with the artists and art organizations of the town. That's probably not possible in a city the size of London. I get a sense of interconnectedness between the Arts Council folks, the artists, and the galleries that is more about neighborliness than collegiality. Art that is made and shown here will be seen by people you know; people you will run into in the daily course of your life. I can't help but imagine that this has consequences, maybe not all of them positive, on what gets shown.
Another thing that seems clear to me is that government support of art in Newcastle makes a radically different paradigm than what I'm used to in NYC. The invisible hand of the market is often truly invisible here. Galleries and artists have a safety net that frees them from the unending need to sell more work. I'm not saying that the intersection of art and commerce is evil, just that it's bound to produce different work than if the commerce isn't there. Galleries can show work that they feel is important even if it doesn't readily find a market. The same is true for artists. I got a sense of experimentation and exploration, even a greater openness to failure, from the artists I met here. I'm not saying that artists in commercial environments don't explore, experiment, or fail; it's not a black or white argument. My point is that the less commercial environment makes that atmosphere more easily available. It takes some of the pressure off.
Nowhere is this more clear than in the important work of Locus+. (Locus + website) Jon Bewley has been an important part of the British art world for coming on 4 decades. He continues to steward an organization that seems to have its fingers in more than its share of important art pies. You have to read the fine print when you pick up the Chris Burden monograph in Gagosian Gallery, but make no mistake, the book was made at Locus+. The group's website describes itself:
"Locus+ is a visual arts commissioning agency that works with artists on the production and presentation of socially engaged, collaborative and temporary projects, primarily for non-gallery locations. To date we have completed over 50 projects touring to a further 25 other venues, produced over 20 publications and 9 artists multiples.
Although Locus+ was formally established in April 1993 it was preceded by the Basement Group (1979 to 1984) and Projects UK (1982 to 1992) the first office-based organisation in the UK. The organization is recognized as a key regional, national and international agency for the development of new initiatives in the realization of visual art and cross-media projects."
Those US institutions that have a strong tradition of conceptual and performance art would do well to look at bringing the touring exhibit of the Basement Group's archives, titled "This Will Not Happen Without You", to their museum. It is clearly an important and under-known moment in 70s art practice. I was also impressed by the work of Layla Curtis which I saw there. Her breakdown of of the meanings and semiotics of maps are visually exciting, full of nuance, and endlessly detailed. I hope Mr. Bewley and his organization will get more play here in the US. He certainly deserves it.
More in the coming days on Workplace Gallery, Waygood Gallery and Studios, and Globe Gallery.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Newcastle, Day 1
Well, here I am in Newcastle-upon-Tyne in the UK. Why go to Newcastle, you ask? The short answer is I was invited. The longer answer is that I was invited by Paul Stone and Chris Yeats from Vane Gallery. I met these two at the art fair "Art 212" a few years ago. I was completely taken with the work of one UK artist they had brought with them, Graham Dolphin. I bought one work and continued to stay in touch. We ran into each other at various international art fairs since then, and have had the chance to continue to discuss art and the art world.
Last year, Paul and Chris had an intriguing offer for me: would I like to come to Newcastle to participate in an Arts Council England program call "Inspiring Internationalists"? As the arts council material describes it, “'Inspiring Internationalists’ gives arts organisations the opportunity to bring to the North East an inspirational individual you have met during your travels, or have knowledge of and whom you believe will help your organisation". Though I make no claims to my inspirational qualities, I was thrilled at the opportunity to see a place I had never seen, and to be given access to an arts environment that was completely new to me. I said yes, and here I am. (Inspiring Internationalists blogsite)
My first visit was to Vane Gallery itself. Though I feel that I am reasonably up to date on Vane's program, it was good to see again the strong selection of artists that Paul and Chris had on the walls. Of course, there were strong examples of Graham Dolphin's drawings including a very fine fashion portrait using soldering lead as the drawing tool on an appropriated magazine ad, but there were other fine works up as well. Of particular interest to me were the works of Jorn Ebner. Mr. Ebner uses mixed media to create what appear to be landscape or architectural schematics. This cool exterior belies an emotional core to the work which seems to me to be passionate and communicative. I'm eager to see more. Video work by Claire Davies showed a clear eye for rhythm and color. The few works I saw were fine examples of using the video screen as an abstract expressionist palette. All these works and more can be seen on Vane's website. Check it out. http://www.vane.org.uk
Next up was the 800 pound gorilla in the Newcastle art scene, The Baltic (http://www.balticmill.com). The Baltic is a former flour mill built on the banks of the Tyne river which, beginning in 1998, was re-built and re-purposed to house a multi-purpose arts center. It is the largest gallery of it's kind in the UK outside of London. Newcastle shares a history with other cities that will sound familiar to many Americans. It has a strong industrial past that had created a remarkable architectural legacy that needed to be adapted to contemporary uses. Like DIA/Beacon in Beacon, NY, MassMoCA in North Adams, MA, or Hamburger Bahnhof in Berlin, Newcastle saw opportunity in an aging industrial structure. Using generous national lottery funding at a time when British funding of the arts was particularly healthy, the Baltic opened its doors for its first show in 2002.
It is a commanding and dramatic space. For example, the galleries on the top floor are 11 meters high. It is a perfect space for large, contemporary work. Filling those big, dramatic spaces with work that fits the scale is the challenge. On view while I'm here were 5 substantial shows: Barry McGee, 2006 Turner Prize nominee Mark Titchner, Mona Marzouk, Barthelemy Toguo, and a collective of anonymous artists called "CutUp Collective".
Strongest for me were the ruminations on contemporary media by Mr. Toguo. Using a local newspaper as wallpaper, he edited out almost all text except for headlines, leaving the photos and a few details of dates and place. This redaction asks us to reimagine the context of the photos and their place in the news. Some photos reoccur and other slide in and out of view. I found it a completely absorbing work. Also being shown was a video by Mr. Toguo that showed him stripped to the waist, some unseen-but-awful wound causing bleeding around his groin, while he rhythmically and tirelessly chops at a log. The log is one of hundreds (if not thousands) which fill the screen. The chopping figure is alone in a field of toil doing a job that seems to make no progress and seems to have no end. It is as graphic a depiction of purgatory as I have seen, and was a powerful reference for the mind-numbing, back-breaking work that is done by the world's poor every day. Mesmerizing.
Next up was a small photo space called "Side Gallery". It is aptly named as it occupies a small 2 story space just inside a small alley. On view was a photo essay by the Welsh photographer, Rhodri Jones. At first I was unconvinced by this clean, classic show of straight documentary photos. But I confess, I was seduced. This show gained power, meaning, and complexity as I stayed with it. The individual photos had great balance, drama and composition, while the sequence of images drew a picture of the grand complexity of different cultures within China. I don't believe Mr. Jones is so well known within the US, but that should change. With the fascination for all things Chinese that has been happening in the art scene lately, this is a wonderful gimlet-eyed look at a foreign culture without sentimentality or showiness. http://www.amber-online.com
Last year, Paul and Chris had an intriguing offer for me: would I like to come to Newcastle to participate in an Arts Council England program call "Inspiring Internationalists"? As the arts council material describes it, “'Inspiring Internationalists’ gives arts organisations the opportunity to bring to the North East an inspirational individual you have met during your travels, or have knowledge of and whom you believe will help your organisation". Though I make no claims to my inspirational qualities, I was thrilled at the opportunity to see a place I had never seen, and to be given access to an arts environment that was completely new to me. I said yes, and here I am. (Inspiring Internationalists blogsite)
My first visit was to Vane Gallery itself. Though I feel that I am reasonably up to date on Vane's program, it was good to see again the strong selection of artists that Paul and Chris had on the walls. Of course, there were strong examples of Graham Dolphin's drawings including a very fine fashion portrait using soldering lead as the drawing tool on an appropriated magazine ad, but there were other fine works up as well. Of particular interest to me were the works of Jorn Ebner. Mr. Ebner uses mixed media to create what appear to be landscape or architectural schematics. This cool exterior belies an emotional core to the work which seems to me to be passionate and communicative. I'm eager to see more. Video work by Claire Davies showed a clear eye for rhythm and color. The few works I saw were fine examples of using the video screen as an abstract expressionist palette. All these works and more can be seen on Vane's website. Check it out. http://www.vane.org.uk
Next up was the 800 pound gorilla in the Newcastle art scene, The Baltic (http://www.balticmill.com). The Baltic is a former flour mill built on the banks of the Tyne river which, beginning in 1998, was re-built and re-purposed to house a multi-purpose arts center. It is the largest gallery of it's kind in the UK outside of London. Newcastle shares a history with other cities that will sound familiar to many Americans. It has a strong industrial past that had created a remarkable architectural legacy that needed to be adapted to contemporary uses. Like DIA/Beacon in Beacon, NY, MassMoCA in North Adams, MA, or Hamburger Bahnhof in Berlin, Newcastle saw opportunity in an aging industrial structure. Using generous national lottery funding at a time when British funding of the arts was particularly healthy, the Baltic opened its doors for its first show in 2002.
It is a commanding and dramatic space. For example, the galleries on the top floor are 11 meters high. It is a perfect space for large, contemporary work. Filling those big, dramatic spaces with work that fits the scale is the challenge. On view while I'm here were 5 substantial shows: Barry McGee, 2006 Turner Prize nominee Mark Titchner, Mona Marzouk, Barthelemy Toguo, and a collective of anonymous artists called "CutUp Collective".
Strongest for me were the ruminations on contemporary media by Mr. Toguo. Using a local newspaper as wallpaper, he edited out almost all text except for headlines, leaving the photos and a few details of dates and place. This redaction asks us to reimagine the context of the photos and their place in the news. Some photos reoccur and other slide in and out of view. I found it a completely absorbing work. Also being shown was a video by Mr. Toguo that showed him stripped to the waist, some unseen-but-awful wound causing bleeding around his groin, while he rhythmically and tirelessly chops at a log. The log is one of hundreds (if not thousands) which fill the screen. The chopping figure is alone in a field of toil doing a job that seems to make no progress and seems to have no end. It is as graphic a depiction of purgatory as I have seen, and was a powerful reference for the mind-numbing, back-breaking work that is done by the world's poor every day. Mesmerizing.
Next up was a small photo space called "Side Gallery". It is aptly named as it occupies a small 2 story space just inside a small alley. On view was a photo essay by the Welsh photographer, Rhodri Jones. At first I was unconvinced by this clean, classic show of straight documentary photos. But I confess, I was seduced. This show gained power, meaning, and complexity as I stayed with it. The individual photos had great balance, drama and composition, while the sequence of images drew a picture of the grand complexity of different cultures within China. I don't believe Mr. Jones is so well known within the US, but that should change. With the fascination for all things Chinese that has been happening in the art scene lately, this is a wonderful gimlet-eyed look at a foreign culture without sentimentality or showiness. http://www.amber-online.com
Monday, February 25, 2008
Pello Irazu and Kenneth Jacobsen at Yancey Richardson
Yancey Richardson has an intriguing show up now featuring two artists that, at first glance, wouldn't seem to relate, Pello Irazu and Kenneth Jacobsen. But they talk to each other beautifully thanks mostly to the brilliant collages that Jacobsen has done with postcards that are cut up and layered onto his own photos. Mr. Irazu's work involves his own photos onto which he has painted or airbrushed geometric shapes and trompe l'oeil wooden sculptures. The wooden sculptures relate to actual wooden sculptures that are in the gallery. I found this work to be visually engaging and pleasing to the eye, though I struggled to find a bigger philosophy behind the engaging geometry of them.
But Mr. Jacobsen's collages are another story altogether. This artist uses his photographs to enlessly ask us, what is a photograph? He inserts other photos, trompe l'oeil wall hangings, and, often, himself to force us to reimagine what is contained in the two dimensional photographic plane. The collages succeed in this questioning to a remarkable degree. Using a commercial postcard of a building or tableau as a start off point, he re-photographs the scene (sometimes holding the postcard in his hand withing the frame. Then, he cuts up the color postcard and inserts parts of it into the re-imagined black and white photo. What is the original photo? Which of these is a representation of reality? Where does one photo start and the other end? The questions that these photo-collages pose are unending and unendingly intriguing. This is great work and an eye-opener if you only know his earlier, Chicago-based work. Take a look....
But Mr. Jacobsen's collages are another story altogether. This artist uses his photographs to enlessly ask us, what is a photograph? He inserts other photos, trompe l'oeil wall hangings, and, often, himself to force us to reimagine what is contained in the two dimensional photographic plane. The collages succeed in this questioning to a remarkable degree. Using a commercial postcard of a building or tableau as a start off point, he re-photographs the scene (sometimes holding the postcard in his hand withing the frame. Then, he cuts up the color postcard and inserts parts of it into the re-imagined black and white photo. What is the original photo? Which of these is a representation of reality? Where does one photo start and the other end? The questions that these photo-collages pose are unending and unendingly intriguing. This is great work and an eye-opener if you only know his earlier, Chicago-based work. Take a look....
Sunday, February 24, 2008
More Creative Destruction
I've been thinking a lot about my creative destruction posting. Now that the theme is in my head, I see the idea everywhere. There are obvious parallels like Gordon Matta-Clark and Rauschenberg photo-based combines. But how large is the field? Is there a large corner of the photo world in which artists deal with destruction of the photo as part of their practice? I thought that I would start to make a list that I would add to as I encounter new work. I would value suggestions of artists I have overlooked or of whom I'm unaware. It could be an engaging vista once we have a few dozen names.
Just to be clear, let's limit this list to artists who use photography or photographic materials in a way that tears, rips, punctures, slashes, or otherwise mars the paper. Simple collage is not enough. I would say that Hockney is a no while Samarras is a yes. Richard Prince is a no while Rauschenberg is a yes. It is not enough that the work is about destruction, there needs to be some work on the print as well. Matta-Clark is on the fence in this regard. I suspect further clarification will be necessary (and welcome as part of an ongoing dialog) as we continue, but that will suffice as a start.
My list part 1:
Robert Rauschenberg
Lucas Samarras
Gordon Matta-Clark
Marco Breuer
Douglas Gordon (the celebrity 8x10s with the eyes and mouths burned out and mounted on mirrors)
Chris McCaw
Felix Schramm
John Stezaker
Stephen Gill (Buried)
Helen Almeida (sewn photos)
Peter Beard
Ray K. Metzker (recent photo collages)
Your turn........
Just to be clear, let's limit this list to artists who use photography or photographic materials in a way that tears, rips, punctures, slashes, or otherwise mars the paper. Simple collage is not enough. I would say that Hockney is a no while Samarras is a yes. Richard Prince is a no while Rauschenberg is a yes. It is not enough that the work is about destruction, there needs to be some work on the print as well. Matta-Clark is on the fence in this regard. I suspect further clarification will be necessary (and welcome as part of an ongoing dialog) as we continue, but that will suffice as a start.
My list part 1:
Robert Rauschenberg
Lucas Samarras
Gordon Matta-Clark
Marco Breuer
Douglas Gordon (the celebrity 8x10s with the eyes and mouths burned out and mounted on mirrors)
Chris McCaw
Felix Schramm
John Stezaker
Stephen Gill (Buried)
Helen Almeida (sewn photos)
Peter Beard
Ray K. Metzker (recent photo collages)
Your turn........
"Next Level" magazine and Thorsten Brinkmann
I am thrilled to report that my first published photo essay will be coming out next month in the UK magazine, Next Level. If you haven't seen this magazine, look for it. It is a beautifully produced and intelligently presented photo publication. The emphasis is on the photography with short, supplemental essays giving a little background and context. The list of artists they've spotted and supported early is an impressive one. Editor Sheyi Antony Bankale clearly has an eye and his fingers firmly on the pulse of the photo/art world.
My essay will be on the German artist, Thorsten Brinkmann, who has been mentioned in these pages before. I wrote an alternate essay for the magazine which I will reproduce here since they could only choose one. I will say as a caveat that Thorsten was not so thrilled with this essay, though I still think that it puts him in an interesting historical perspective and and rightly places him next to some greats of the art world. Those of you who read both the Next Level piece and this one, I would be eager to hear what you think of both.
Wit is the rarest of rare birds in photography. Elliot Erwitt displays it. Garry Winogrand is a master of it. Humor, too, is rare. I would differentiate them in a photo context by saying that humor is going for a laugh while wit represents some kind of ironic visual play. Winogrand is never humorous though often darkly witty. Erwitt is sometimes both. Both of these photographers are significantly different in style, but they share the fact that they find their scenarios in the real world; there are no studio or set shots. So rarer still is photographic wit in the studio. Phillippe Halsman comes to mind in Dali Atomicus or Nixon jumping. Who else? The field is tiny. For any photographer wanting to explore this world, the path is filled with peril. What artist wants his work looked at as cute or incidental? Jokes don’t translate well. Will a viewer in Japan find the work as witty as a viewer in Germany? And perhaps worst of all, what if the attempt at wit is understood but no one likes the joke. There’s no thud louder than the sound of a bad joke hitting the floor.
Enter Thorsten Brinkmann. Here is the confident hand of someone who knows the joke, knows just how to tell it, and, best of all, knows that there is something more to the story than just an easy laugh. Added to the mix is the fact that all the jokes are at his expense since every photo is a self-portrait. Thorsten Brinkmann creates environments. He goes out to the junkyards, flea markets, and dumpsters of the world to find the materials for his art. With those materials he builds walls, floors, objets, and furniture; the full contents of a scavenger’s apartment. Of course every apartment needs something on the walls, so he hangs pictures of himself covered with more of the junk trouvé. Of course, the backdrops for the photos are created environments as well. A mirror in a mirror in a.....
We see the wit first. In Rain Mc Keul or hopi green holding kni he preens in a mock-heroic pose that harkens back to classical portraits of the 19th century like Velazquez and Courbet.
Rain Mc Keul
hopi green holding kni
In Bigi Di Innozencia and Henri Van Ed we see poses that would not be out of place in the Uffizzi.
Bigi Di Innozencia
Henri Van Ed
Brinkmann’s photos poke fun at himself and at these traditions. Yet the joke comes right back at us since he is upholstered behind what we have thrown away. The garish colors, cheap patterns, and texture of “real” vinyl contradict the luxe and private world that portraits like this usually reveal. Far from the castles and mansions that are haunted by portraits posed just like this, Brinkmann shows us ourselves as well. His wit is on display when he obscures himself behind the cast-off material of a consumer society. But behind the wit lies a dead on comment about dignity and individualism. The wit is just the camouflaged skin of a predator poised to go for the kill.
My essay will be on the German artist, Thorsten Brinkmann, who has been mentioned in these pages before. I wrote an alternate essay for the magazine which I will reproduce here since they could only choose one. I will say as a caveat that Thorsten was not so thrilled with this essay, though I still think that it puts him in an interesting historical perspective and and rightly places him next to some greats of the art world. Those of you who read both the Next Level piece and this one, I would be eager to hear what you think of both.
Wit is the rarest of rare birds in photography. Elliot Erwitt displays it. Garry Winogrand is a master of it. Humor, too, is rare. I would differentiate them in a photo context by saying that humor is going for a laugh while wit represents some kind of ironic visual play. Winogrand is never humorous though often darkly witty. Erwitt is sometimes both. Both of these photographers are significantly different in style, but they share the fact that they find their scenarios in the real world; there are no studio or set shots. So rarer still is photographic wit in the studio. Phillippe Halsman comes to mind in Dali Atomicus or Nixon jumping. Who else? The field is tiny. For any photographer wanting to explore this world, the path is filled with peril. What artist wants his work looked at as cute or incidental? Jokes don’t translate well. Will a viewer in Japan find the work as witty as a viewer in Germany? And perhaps worst of all, what if the attempt at wit is understood but no one likes the joke. There’s no thud louder than the sound of a bad joke hitting the floor.
Enter Thorsten Brinkmann. Here is the confident hand of someone who knows the joke, knows just how to tell it, and, best of all, knows that there is something more to the story than just an easy laugh. Added to the mix is the fact that all the jokes are at his expense since every photo is a self-portrait. Thorsten Brinkmann creates environments. He goes out to the junkyards, flea markets, and dumpsters of the world to find the materials for his art. With those materials he builds walls, floors, objets, and furniture; the full contents of a scavenger’s apartment. Of course every apartment needs something on the walls, so he hangs pictures of himself covered with more of the junk trouvé. Of course, the backdrops for the photos are created environments as well. A mirror in a mirror in a.....
We see the wit first. In Rain Mc Keul or hopi green holding kni he preens in a mock-heroic pose that harkens back to classical portraits of the 19th century like Velazquez and Courbet.
Rain Mc Keul
hopi green holding kni
In Bigi Di Innozencia and Henri Van Ed we see poses that would not be out of place in the Uffizzi.
Bigi Di Innozencia
Henri Van Ed
Brinkmann’s photos poke fun at himself and at these traditions. Yet the joke comes right back at us since he is upholstered behind what we have thrown away. The garish colors, cheap patterns, and texture of “real” vinyl contradict the luxe and private world that portraits like this usually reveal. Far from the castles and mansions that are haunted by portraits posed just like this, Brinkmann shows us ourselves as well. His wit is on display when he obscures himself behind the cast-off material of a consumer society. But behind the wit lies a dead on comment about dignity and individualism. The wit is just the camouflaged skin of a predator poised to go for the kill.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Madrid galleries during ARCO
A very belated and untimely addition to my first ARCO/Madrid post. There was much, much more on the trip than just going to the fair. I was traveling with a group from the International Center of Photography (ICP). In addition to the program that ARCO made available to us, ICP had some wonderful "backstage" visits to add to the trip.
It seems that private funding for art foundations by Spanish banks is alive and well. We started at Fundacion Astroc which had a display of works by Gabriele Basilico. Astroc awards a prize every year for architecturally related photography. Basilico was this year's winner. I can't say that I am an ardent fan of this photographer's work. While the images of Beirut are haunting and unforgettable, most of his cityscapes are under-realized. When I see most of his work, I can't help but think that I have seen similar ideas executed more convincingly by other photographers. Yaiji Matsue, Naoya Hatakeyama, and Robert Polidori are just a few that come to mind. Still, the Astroc Foundation is doing a fine thing by the supporting the arts in this way. They are housed in a truly magnificent villa in the center of Madrid. Any exhibition they mount would be worthwhile to go to just to see the space. http://fundacionastroc.org/
Another major funder of the arts, Caixa Forum, had the opening of its new, Heurog & de Meuron space near the Reina Sofia museum.
It is a dramatic and effective space, though, like many new celebrity architect museum spaces, the building is more of a star than the art inside. On view was a laundry list of well-known a-list art fair art, but mostly less-than-a-list examples. The best for me was a spectacular series of the the absolute best of UK artist, Gillian Wearing. The most effective of her series in which she transforms herself into various family members were all here. A treat to see them together. I hadn't gotten to see them together like this since I saw them in Arles 3 years ago. They are brilliant. (Caixa Forum Madrid)
ICP arranged behind the scenes viewings at the Reina Sofia, the Prado, and the Biblioteca Nacional. All of these visits were rare treats to see a side of a great institution that one doesn't usually get to see.
At Reina Sofia, we were greeted by chief photo curator, Catherine Coleman. She gave us a tour of the photo department that included a perusal of the portfolios of about 8 lesser known Spanish photographers. After that, we were led on a whirlwind walk-through the highlight of which was a private view of Picasso's Guernica. In addition to Guernica were two Coleman-created photo exhibits in support of the famous painting. The first was a photo essay by Dora Maar which traced the evolution of the paining as it was created. The second was an overview of newspaper photos and stories of the actual event that was the bombing of the small Spanish town of Guernica. Both shows were revelatory and significantly added to my understanding of the magnificent painting.
The Prado has just undergone a huge expansion and face lift. ICP arranged for us to have a tour of the building led by one of the principals from the architectural firm that designed the expansion. My favorite part of the tour was the the viewing of the conservation labs. Canvases in every stage of restoration were there to be seen on easals, lying flat, or unrolled for their frames. The tools of the conserver were everywhere: paint, solvents, bits of canvas, etc. It was remarkable to see the work in such a fragile, open state.
Isabel Ortega was our scholarly and helpful guide at the Biblioteca Nacional. She brought out a few rare volumes of paper negative prints by the Spanish photographer Juan Laurent. For those of you unfamiliar with this great 19th century artist's work, the Luminous Lint website describes him:
He opened a Daguerreotype studio in Paris under the name "Laurent & Company" in 1843. He moved to Spain and established a studio in Madrid in around 1857 and became one of the great photographers of nineteenth century Spain and Portugal. He took a vast variety of subjects including city views, architecture, historic monuments, old master paintings and local inhabitants of all social classes. His output was prolific and over 11,000 negatives have been attributed to the J. Laurent studio.
I can't tell you what a treat it was to see dozens and dozens of these masterpieces up close and out of frames. It was a highlight of the trip and not soon to be forgotten.
Gallery hopping was also on the agenda of this trip. Three favorites come to mind. First up was Galeria Elba Benitez who had an exhibition of Brazilian artist Ernesto Neto. In addition to the expected soft material/spice work was new sculptural work in cor-ten steel. Mr. Neto makes screen-like planes with numerous cutouts,
then uses the cut-outs themselves to build alternate, "negative" sculptures.
(again, sorry for the sidways pictures. I'm having trouble loading some pictures properly these days. I hope to get technical help to fix the problem soon.)
The Elba Benitez program is a truly remarkable one. Those of you not familiar with the gallery are encouraged to take a look. Though many of the names will be familiar, some others, like Ignasi Aballí, are well worth exploring. (http://www.elbabenitez.com/)
At Max Estrella we were introduced to Spanish artist Daniel Canogar. Mr. Canogar is an ICP graduate from the early '90's who works in the intersection of photography, video, and technology. It was an intriguing and fascinating exhibition from an artist that should have more play in the US. (Max Estrella Gallery)
Finally, we paid a visit to Galería Fucares. In addition to seeing works by my friend Isidro Blasco, we were introduced to the subtly conceptual work of Bleda y Rosa. The pieces we saw were photographs of ancient battle sites from Spanish history. The artists look for some tiny hints that this was a place where important battle had taken place that are now covered by centuries of growth and the encroachment of the modern world. I was not immediately won over, but found the work to be still on my mind days later. Always a good sign. Check it out. (Fucares)
All in all, a great trip, and a place to which I would be happy to return. The advance press on ARCO was accurate and positive, and the gallery scene is vibrant. There's a lot to see. Thanks to ICP for the value-added special events that were icing on an already delicious cake.
It seems that private funding for art foundations by Spanish banks is alive and well. We started at Fundacion Astroc which had a display of works by Gabriele Basilico. Astroc awards a prize every year for architecturally related photography. Basilico was this year's winner. I can't say that I am an ardent fan of this photographer's work. While the images of Beirut are haunting and unforgettable, most of his cityscapes are under-realized. When I see most of his work, I can't help but think that I have seen similar ideas executed more convincingly by other photographers. Yaiji Matsue, Naoya Hatakeyama, and Robert Polidori are just a few that come to mind. Still, the Astroc Foundation is doing a fine thing by the supporting the arts in this way. They are housed in a truly magnificent villa in the center of Madrid. Any exhibition they mount would be worthwhile to go to just to see the space. http://fundacionastroc.org/
Another major funder of the arts, Caixa Forum, had the opening of its new, Heurog & de Meuron space near the Reina Sofia museum.
It is a dramatic and effective space, though, like many new celebrity architect museum spaces, the building is more of a star than the art inside. On view was a laundry list of well-known a-list art fair art, but mostly less-than-a-list examples. The best for me was a spectacular series of the the absolute best of UK artist, Gillian Wearing. The most effective of her series in which she transforms herself into various family members were all here. A treat to see them together. I hadn't gotten to see them together like this since I saw them in Arles 3 years ago. They are brilliant. (Caixa Forum Madrid)
ICP arranged behind the scenes viewings at the Reina Sofia, the Prado, and the Biblioteca Nacional. All of these visits were rare treats to see a side of a great institution that one doesn't usually get to see.
At Reina Sofia, we were greeted by chief photo curator, Catherine Coleman. She gave us a tour of the photo department that included a perusal of the portfolios of about 8 lesser known Spanish photographers. After that, we were led on a whirlwind walk-through the highlight of which was a private view of Picasso's Guernica. In addition to Guernica were two Coleman-created photo exhibits in support of the famous painting. The first was a photo essay by Dora Maar which traced the evolution of the paining as it was created. The second was an overview of newspaper photos and stories of the actual event that was the bombing of the small Spanish town of Guernica. Both shows were revelatory and significantly added to my understanding of the magnificent painting.
The Prado has just undergone a huge expansion and face lift. ICP arranged for us to have a tour of the building led by one of the principals from the architectural firm that designed the expansion. My favorite part of the tour was the the viewing of the conservation labs. Canvases in every stage of restoration were there to be seen on easals, lying flat, or unrolled for their frames. The tools of the conserver were everywhere: paint, solvents, bits of canvas, etc. It was remarkable to see the work in such a fragile, open state.
Isabel Ortega was our scholarly and helpful guide at the Biblioteca Nacional. She brought out a few rare volumes of paper negative prints by the Spanish photographer Juan Laurent. For those of you unfamiliar with this great 19th century artist's work, the Luminous Lint website describes him:
He opened a Daguerreotype studio in Paris under the name "Laurent & Company" in 1843. He moved to Spain and established a studio in Madrid in around 1857 and became one of the great photographers of nineteenth century Spain and Portugal. He took a vast variety of subjects including city views, architecture, historic monuments, old master paintings and local inhabitants of all social classes. His output was prolific and over 11,000 negatives have been attributed to the J. Laurent studio.
I can't tell you what a treat it was to see dozens and dozens of these masterpieces up close and out of frames. It was a highlight of the trip and not soon to be forgotten.
Gallery hopping was also on the agenda of this trip. Three favorites come to mind. First up was Galeria Elba Benitez who had an exhibition of Brazilian artist Ernesto Neto. In addition to the expected soft material/spice work was new sculptural work in cor-ten steel. Mr. Neto makes screen-like planes with numerous cutouts,
then uses the cut-outs themselves to build alternate, "negative" sculptures.
(again, sorry for the sidways pictures. I'm having trouble loading some pictures properly these days. I hope to get technical help to fix the problem soon.)The Elba Benitez program is a truly remarkable one. Those of you not familiar with the gallery are encouraged to take a look. Though many of the names will be familiar, some others, like Ignasi Aballí, are well worth exploring. (http://www.elbabenitez.com/)
At Max Estrella we were introduced to Spanish artist Daniel Canogar. Mr. Canogar is an ICP graduate from the early '90's who works in the intersection of photography, video, and technology. It was an intriguing and fascinating exhibition from an artist that should have more play in the US. (Max Estrella Gallery)
Finally, we paid a visit to Galería Fucares. In addition to seeing works by my friend Isidro Blasco, we were introduced to the subtly conceptual work of Bleda y Rosa. The pieces we saw were photographs of ancient battle sites from Spanish history. The artists look for some tiny hints that this was a place where important battle had taken place that are now covered by centuries of growth and the encroachment of the modern world. I was not immediately won over, but found the work to be still on my mind days later. Always a good sign. Check it out. (Fucares)
All in all, a great trip, and a place to which I would be happy to return. The advance press on ARCO was accurate and positive, and the gallery scene is vibrant. There's a lot to see. Thanks to ICP for the value-added special events that were icing on an already delicious cake.
ARCO'08 musings
ARCO art fair has been on my list of must-see fairs for a few years now. I have a preference for fairs where there is an assortment of galleries that I won't see under other circumstances, where there is art that is chosen for more reasons than that it will be an easy sale, and where the vibe of the fair is one of exploration and discovery. I would put Berlin's Art Forum and Paris' FIAC in this category among the ones I've visited. ARCO always sounded like it would be just as good, and it didn't disappoint. The scale of the fair was large, but not so large as to feel beyond the scope of a human mind to see it all. It also felt that while it was inclusive, the participants had been vetted. The quality level was high. Still, as I said before, I love a fair where there are failures or risk of failure; where galleries take chances. The galleries may lose, but art wins.
In keeping with my unplanned side trip to Lisbon, I was excited to be introduced to a photographer named Daniel Blaufuks (www.danielblaufuks.com) at Vera Cortés Gallery (http://www.veracortes.com/). He is more of a mid-career artist, but better known in the Iberian peninsula than in the US. The work on view were beautifully realized examinations of soon-to-be-extinct photo materials. There was a brilliant image of a Polaroid film frame:
as well as this sheet of Kodak packaging:
In keeping with the idea that these are materials that are almost gone, the work was available in editions of 1. Going, going, gone...... I hope some smart US gallery picks him up. The work was conceptually strong as well as visually engaging. The prints were exquisite.
Galerie Grita Insam had a fascinating booth. First off was an installation by the artist Peter Sandbichler. He hand hammers the portraits of political prisoners into metal shelving. The panels can either be hung as a complete portrait or "shelved" as a metaphor for how we treat yesterday's news cycle.
Also in the booth were multiple works by Gerold Tagwerker. Mr Tagwerker explores the nature of architecture in our lives through sculpture, installations, reflective wall hangings, and photography. The work inter-relates in intriguing ways as he re-photographs buildings or models of buildings at the same time as he uses bent and pixelated mirrors to reflect the image back at us with our own image included in the frame. I was engaged and curious to see more.
But best to me in this booth was the very first Candida Höfer photograph I have ever enjoyed. I would include a reproduction here but it reproduces very badly. I will try to describe. It was a photo of a diorama such as one often finds in Europe where you climb stairs into a turret that has a painting or photo of a scene in a 360 degree view. Jeff Wall has a work dealing with this subject in which conservators are working on the painting. In Ms Höfer's work, we see the top of the staircase, a slice of the diorama, and a sign at the top of the stairs that states that photography is forbidden. It was so refreshing to see work by her that did not flog the usual territory of a vast, formal interior. Also, that this picture had a literal and figurative subtext was a treat to see. If this is a sign of what is to come from Candida Höfer, I can't wait.
http://www.galeriegritainsam.at/
To paraphrase Mark Twain, it seemed one could throw a brick in any direction and hit a Vik Muniz. Whether this was because Brazil was the theme of the fair or everyone had one to sell, I can't know. Still, it seemed to show his work at his best and at his worst. The fact that there were so many, points to a fact many critics have stated that he over-produces using a large, factory-like studio. It seemed at times that he was struggling to find new iconic images to recreate with some other material. The newer pictures in chocolate seem tired and pat. The map of the world using computer parts was impressive in scale, but explores no truths or ideas that Chris Jordan hasn't been exploring for years.
The best for me was at Albion Gallery. The drawings in dust of an art exhibition using the dust that has been vacuumed off the art are phenomenal. This is not new work, but has the most depth of any of his photo series since the "drawing material" is integral to the image seen. This one was an installation of Carl Andre. The precision corners of Andre's tiles rendered in soft dust that has been sucked of of them is just too good.
Rudolf Kicken had his usual exceptional fine booth. That I had seen much of the work before was nothing against him and only said that I had been going to too many fairs. The new treat for me was a Peter Keetman photo from the Volkswagen plant series. It evoked the graphical and pattern-out-of-life imagery that the best Callahan and Ray K. Metzker do for me. A remarkable vintage photo poorly reproduced here. If any of the nice folks at Kicken Gallery read this and would like to send me a jpeg, I will happily replace the image.
Crown Gallery from Brussels had a wonderful print from Paul Graham's American Night series. Titled Man by lumber yard looking back, Memphis, 2003, I was struck by how painterly this series is. I realized I had only experienced this work from the book. In person, the white "veil" truly obscures the scene in a real and metaphorical way. The figures in it seem drawn or painted or both. The scale is 3 bears perfect; not too big, not too small, just right. I went back to see it many times. there was much Paul Graham to be seen at the fair (Shimmer of Possibilities at Steidl and a number of galleries), but this was the real showstopper. www.crowngallery.be
Last and very much not least, was Galerie 1900-2000 from Paris. They had a wall sort of tucked away in the back of the booth that, as one curator I was with noted, "I would be happy owning anything on this wall". The prince of this particular little realm for me was by Raoul Ubac. His Penthesilisée was a superior example of a superior photograph in superior condition. I could easily look at that photo for years, and I'm sorry I didn't have the coin to buy it. What a gem.
This put a fine period on a show that had great work by artists with whom I was unfamiliar to superb examples by established artists of iconic works. I've left out many fun things (Dionysio Gonzalez' "exploding" sculpture, Helen Almeida painted photos, Jesus Soto and Carlos Cruz-Diez op-art sculptures, and on and on), but to get the whole picture you're just gonna' have to go next year. I recommend it wholeheartedly.
In keeping with my unplanned side trip to Lisbon, I was excited to be introduced to a photographer named Daniel Blaufuks (www.danielblaufuks.com) at Vera Cortés Gallery (http://www.veracortes.com/). He is more of a mid-career artist, but better known in the Iberian peninsula than in the US. The work on view were beautifully realized examinations of soon-to-be-extinct photo materials. There was a brilliant image of a Polaroid film frame:
as well as this sheet of Kodak packaging:
In keeping with the idea that these are materials that are almost gone, the work was available in editions of 1. Going, going, gone...... I hope some smart US gallery picks him up. The work was conceptually strong as well as visually engaging. The prints were exquisite.
Galerie Grita Insam had a fascinating booth. First off was an installation by the artist Peter Sandbichler. He hand hammers the portraits of political prisoners into metal shelving. The panels can either be hung as a complete portrait or "shelved" as a metaphor for how we treat yesterday's news cycle.
Also in the booth were multiple works by Gerold Tagwerker. Mr Tagwerker explores the nature of architecture in our lives through sculpture, installations, reflective wall hangings, and photography. The work inter-relates in intriguing ways as he re-photographs buildings or models of buildings at the same time as he uses bent and pixelated mirrors to reflect the image back at us with our own image included in the frame. I was engaged and curious to see more.
But best to me in this booth was the very first Candida Höfer photograph I have ever enjoyed. I would include a reproduction here but it reproduces very badly. I will try to describe. It was a photo of a diorama such as one often finds in Europe where you climb stairs into a turret that has a painting or photo of a scene in a 360 degree view. Jeff Wall has a work dealing with this subject in which conservators are working on the painting. In Ms Höfer's work, we see the top of the staircase, a slice of the diorama, and a sign at the top of the stairs that states that photography is forbidden. It was so refreshing to see work by her that did not flog the usual territory of a vast, formal interior. Also, that this picture had a literal and figurative subtext was a treat to see. If this is a sign of what is to come from Candida Höfer, I can't wait.
http://www.galeriegritainsam.at/
To paraphrase Mark Twain, it seemed one could throw a brick in any direction and hit a Vik Muniz. Whether this was because Brazil was the theme of the fair or everyone had one to sell, I can't know. Still, it seemed to show his work at his best and at his worst. The fact that there were so many, points to a fact many critics have stated that he over-produces using a large, factory-like studio. It seemed at times that he was struggling to find new iconic images to recreate with some other material. The newer pictures in chocolate seem tired and pat. The map of the world using computer parts was impressive in scale, but explores no truths or ideas that Chris Jordan hasn't been exploring for years.
The best for me was at Albion Gallery. The drawings in dust of an art exhibition using the dust that has been vacuumed off the art are phenomenal. This is not new work, but has the most depth of any of his photo series since the "drawing material" is integral to the image seen. This one was an installation of Carl Andre. The precision corners of Andre's tiles rendered in soft dust that has been sucked of of them is just too good.
Rudolf Kicken had his usual exceptional fine booth. That I had seen much of the work before was nothing against him and only said that I had been going to too many fairs. The new treat for me was a Peter Keetman photo from the Volkswagen plant series. It evoked the graphical and pattern-out-of-life imagery that the best Callahan and Ray K. Metzker do for me. A remarkable vintage photo poorly reproduced here. If any of the nice folks at Kicken Gallery read this and would like to send me a jpeg, I will happily replace the image.
Crown Gallery from Brussels had a wonderful print from Paul Graham's American Night series. Titled Man by lumber yard looking back, Memphis, 2003, I was struck by how painterly this series is. I realized I had only experienced this work from the book. In person, the white "veil" truly obscures the scene in a real and metaphorical way. The figures in it seem drawn or painted or both. The scale is 3 bears perfect; not too big, not too small, just right. I went back to see it many times. there was much Paul Graham to be seen at the fair (Shimmer of Possibilities at Steidl and a number of galleries), but this was the real showstopper. www.crowngallery.be
Last and very much not least, was Galerie 1900-2000 from Paris. They had a wall sort of tucked away in the back of the booth that, as one curator I was with noted, "I would be happy owning anything on this wall". The prince of this particular little realm for me was by Raoul Ubac. His Penthesilisée was a superior example of a superior photograph in superior condition. I could easily look at that photo for years, and I'm sorry I didn't have the coin to buy it. What a gem.
This put a fine period on a show that had great work by artists with whom I was unfamiliar to superb examples by established artists of iconic works. I've left out many fun things (Dionysio Gonzalez' "exploding" sculpture, Helen Almeida painted photos, Jesus Soto and Carlos Cruz-Diez op-art sculptures, and on and on), but to get the whole picture you're just gonna' have to go next year. I recommend it wholeheartedly.
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